Dreams Make for Interesting Thoughts
by Confoundment
Summary: When dreams plague Lily, what is she to do? Lily/James
1. First Times Make for Insane Insight

_Disclaimer: If I owned James Potter, I would not be writing about him. Trust me._

_Author's Note: I have no idea how long this is going to be. It is just a random thought that popped up that I figured would make for a good story. I wrote it in a different style than I've written anything else, though most of the books I read are written this way. I can't imagine why I never tried it before. Anyway. Tell me if you like it written this way. If you do, then I'll be sure to write like this again. If you don't then I won't. Thanks so much. Enjoy :D_

* * *

_He bends__ down, his lips brushing against my ow__n in a chaste kiss. My eyes are__ closed, anticipating the s__oft feel of his lips upon mine__. Hands wrapped tightly around his neck, tan__gled in locks of hair, I bring__ him closer.__ I want to feel him, all of him._

"_Lily." He murmurs__ against the hollow beneath my jaw. His warm breath sends pleasant shivers down my already shuddering form. I don't ever want him to leave. I feel like I need him, like I won't be able to breathe without him._

"_James..."_

I sit up quickly, the turn my dream had taken frightening me thoroughly. The sweat that coats my forehead and neck leave me chilly in the cool air. With that one last word, that one last name, my dream was no longer pleasing

There is no way that I could possibly have had a dream about James. James sodding Potter.

No. Absolutely not.

Especially not one that good.

I press my hand against my chest. I can feel my heart beating far too fast; it feels about ready to jump out of my ribcage.

"Calm down, Lily." I chide. "It was just a dream. Just a bloody dream. There is absolutely no reason why you should be reacting this way." After all, that warm wanted feeling that had spread through me as he kissed me means nothing at all. The way I had moaned his name does not mean that I had enjoyed it. Not one bit.

I have to tell myself to breathe.

I have to remind myself to lie.

It wasn't the close proximity of James in my dream that has me reacting so dramatically. It isn't my hormones. It is the surprise of it all. I decide that I don't like surprises anymore.

I slip out of my four poster bed, attempting to be as quiet as possible. I don't want James, sleeping in the next room, to wake up. My heart is still beating loud enough to wake the dead. Wincing, I touch my bare feet to the cold wooden floor. It is freezing and I can tell that winter is only a few weeks away. As much as I love winter, the icicles, the snow, I hate the cold. So every year as spring, then summer, and finally fall fade away, I dread winter. I dread it now.

I survey the circular chamber, my eyes falling on the gilded mirror across the room. I look cold and scared, like I don't know what to do, and I don't. I turn away. I am not satisfied with the vulnerable girl I see staring back at me.

Stumbling blindly in the pitch black of the Heads dormitory, I manage to find my way into the Common Room. Idly, I mutter a spell that bathes the Common Room in a soft glow as a fire bursts to life in the grate. I always think better in front of a fire. I find fires comforting. I need comfort now.

I curl up in front of the hearth on the over-stuffed crimson couch, bundling up in a thick blanket. I massage my temples, trying to make the memory of the dream drift away while trying to analyze it at the same time.

My eyes flutter shut of their own accord as I think back to the manner in which he had kissed me and the feelings it had ignited. I think of the way he held my head and the phantom feeling of his lips on mine. Regardless of the more than pleasant feelings that had flowed through me and continue to flow through me at the thought, I realise that it was _James Potter_ that had made me feel it… that keeps making me feel it.

"Merlin, Lily. Get a bloody hold of yourself." I whisper. The frustration in my tone is evident.

I sit on that couch for hours, only drifting into a restless sleep an hour before dawn.

How is it that one lousy dream about James Potter could affect me so?

* * *

"You don't look so good, Lily." The deep voice behind me is husky and only a mere centimetre from my ear.

"Oh, bugger off, Potter." I wasn't usually in the mood for his antics and I am most certainly not in the mood for it when I am working on less than three hours of sleep, especially since _he_ was the one starring in my dream.

"Are you alright? You usually give me about two minutes before you make to rip off my head."

I glare at him. My emerald eyes are shooting figurative sparks.

I am not in the mood for this.

I didn't get enough sleep to _be_ in the mood for this.

He, thankfully, seems to get the message. "Right, I'll just talk to you later then." He throws me one last charming grin and saunters off, presumably to meet up with Sirius.

I think I loathe him. I have never loathed anyone before.

It doesn't feel good.

"I daresay, Lily, you were a bit rude." Alice accuses, coming up behind me.

"Piss off." I say, rubbing my eyes tiredly. It is barely ten in the morning and I can not even civilly converse with my best friend.

"You were at breakfast early." She raises one eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. Breakfast was hours ago. I can't remember hours ago. All I can remember is that ridiculous dream. The ridiculous dream that will not let me alone. "We used to have to force you out of bed before noon. What's going on?"

"Couldn't sleep." I don't mean to be short with her, but I am afraid that if I say anything more than a sentence, something might slip out.

"Why not?" She looks concerned and I regret not lying. I should have said that I had had some unfinished homework to do.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

Divulging in my dreams, secret dreams with secret people, is not one of the things I am ever going to do anytime soon.


	2. Second Times Make for Dangerous Deeds

_Author's Note: In honour of the holiday (it's 4/20!) I thought I'd post two chapters, as I had them written. They are both relatively short, and they're supposed to be. Anyway. I hope you like it. I kind of think I do. It would be nice if you reviewed. I like knowing what you think. Enjoy._

* * *

_A callused hand strokes my cheek, hazel eyes twinkling down at me. He winks and grins impishly, his perfect white teeth sparkling in the bright sunlight. He leans down to kiss me, but I dart away._

"_Catch me if you can!" I squeal brazenly, dashing through the overgrown grass and patches of wildflowers. I have this goofy grin plastered on my face and bubbling laughter escapes my lips. I feel happy, truly happy_

_The boy follows, his long legs allowing him to catch up to me with little effort. His arms encase me in an unbreakable hold. He tackles me and we fall to the ground, but I don't mind. I land on top of him and he holds me closer still, rubbing small circles onto my back. I smile down at him before resting my head upon his chest._

"_I love you, Lily." The deep rumble of his voice reverberates though him and into my ear. I like the way I can feel his words._

_I lift my head and stare down at him. His eyes burn into mine. My heart is beating erratically and I can barely keep the smile from my eyes. I brush my lips against his before replying with, "I love you too, James."_

I wake with a start, once again, breathing fast.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." I mutter, running my hands over my face, grinding my fists over my eyes.

Another dream. Another dream that leaves me wanting more. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel like I need this… need him?

I don't bother going to the Common Room. I know that the fire won't do anything to help. It didn't help last night and it certainly won't help now.

James isn't a suitor... a prospect. He thinks he is… he thinks he has a chance, but he doesn't. He doesn't factor into my thoughts, my hopes, my aspirations. So why is it that now James, arrogant, narcissistic James, is the focal point of my dreams?

A thought creeps into my head, unbidden and unwanted, but still too truthful for comfort. _Do you want him there?_

Do I want his charming smiles and smooth speeches occupying my thoughts? Do I want his 'windswept' hair and tall frame in my mind's eye? Do I want his loyalty and love showcased every time my eyelids flutter shut?

No. I do not.

I do not want anything to do with him, platonic or otherwise.

I tell myself I don't, but do I?

I stare at the dark ceiling blankly. I think. I don't want to, but I think. I think about James. I think about the boy that James used to be. I think about the James that he is now. I think about his friends, his influences, but mostly, I think about him. I don't want to, but I do.

Five hours later, it is seven and acceptable for me to be awake and out of bed. I slide out from beneath the warm blankets. I don't want to, but I do, because I'm bored and I have nothing better to do than be miserable thinking about James out of bed.

The bedchamber is drafty and I rub my hands over my exposed arms, suppressing a shiver. My teeth chatter slightly. I hate getting out of bed in the morning.

My nightgown is too small. I need a new one. In an attempt to stay as warm as possible, I try to pull it down more. It doesn't work. Instead, it hangs several centimetres above my knees. In my warm bed, this is fine, but out in the cold of the castle, without the warmth of a fire, I am beyond uncomfortable.

I take small steps walking to the bathroom. It is across the way from James' room. My feet drag across the smooth wood of the floor. Despite the laws of physics, the friction does not warm me.

Suddenly, I bump into something warm and hard. Startled, I look up. James' large hands hold onto my upper arms, steadying me. He looks down at me, a mixture of surprise, hope and happiness in his eyes.

Only a morning person could be remotely happy this early in the morning.

A hot blush floods my face. My heart starts beating quickly, like in my dream.

He releases me, though he doesn't look like he wanted to. His hands were warm on my arms, and their absence makes the air feel ten times colder. Hazel eyes flick down to the bottom of my nightgown and travel up my body, they stop at my breasts for half a moment and look quickly away. I don't blame him; the nightgown is too tight.

He does not speak.

"I— erm… sorry." I say. The embarrassment of bumping into him washes over me. I notice that he does not have a shirt on. My embarrassment multiplies.

"No worries." He says. His voice is deep and I can't help but remember how it felt to feel his words.

"You're done in there?" I ask. It took me a while to see that his hair was limp and wet and a towel was casually thrown over his hips. A droplet of water falls onto his shoulder and begins to slide down his arm. I almost want to reach out and catch it with my fingertip, but I don't.

"Yeah." He replies, looking behind him as if to remind himself what he had been doing only a minute before. "You're up early." It seems that it is common knowledge that I am not a morning person. I'm really more of an afternoon person.

I don't find it funny or ironic that he knows, like I normally would. I find it confusing. I don't like it.

"I couldn't sleep." For the second time in as many days. I don't really understand why he cares.

"Oh." He says, a bit of unknown sadness in his voice. "I'm sorry."

_As you well should be._ I think. _It's all your fault I can't sleep without dreaming._

I only nod and walk past him into the bathroom.

My brusqueness towards him sickens me and I don't know why.

Why do things have to change?


	3. Third Times Make for Wicked Ways

_Author's Note: I think there will only be about two more chapters after this one. The second to last is almost finished. I'm a bit fond of this story. I hope you are as well. Send me some criticism or compliments, yeah? Thanks so much and enjoy!_

* * *

"_It's beautiful." I gasp. I feel faint just looking at it. _

"_Yeah." He murmurs. His face is on my shoulder, resting. His breathy reply sends shivers down my back. A balloon of warmth and happiness threatens to burst inside my chest. I want to scream and cry and kiss him all at the same time._

_He shifts his weight and we soar. The midnight sky is spread out before us and the stars twinkle brightly. They taunt me. I think that if we fly just a bit higher, I may be able to touch one, to hold one in the palm of my hand. But James' hands hold tighter on my waist. He doesn't want me to fall. He wants me closer. And I don't mind that the stars are just out of my reach, because James isn't._

_I stare out. I don't want this to end, but I feel like it will, all too so__on. I feel something elusive pulling on the edges. _

_He kisses my cheek and whispers, "I love you. Now watch the stars."_

_So __I watch as shooting stars, so bright, whiz by. One second they are there and another, they're gone. The Milky Way is this big streak of white across the sky. I can see every star. I can feel the universe. I can feel it with James and in that, I feel complete._

I wake suddenly. Unwanted emotions are flowing through me freely, fiercely. I don't like them. I don't want them. Not at all.

I shakily stand, swaying a bit. It is cold again and I shiver.

I need to know why I am seeing these things, feeling this way.

I need to know. I _want_ to know. Just like I need it to stop. Want it to stop.

But I don't.

I stand outside his door. I reach for the door handle. I can feel the cold radiating off the gold. But I stop myself just before I touch it.

I can't see him.

I don't want to see him.

I walk back to my chamber. I grab my blankets off the bed and wrap myself tightly in them. When I open my window, the air is freezing. It chills my bones, but I deserve it.

All this indecision. All these wrong feelings about James. I deserve a lot worse.

I step out onto the ledge and sit down.

And I think.

I decide that I have been thinking too much lately. The fact that it is about James only makes it that much worse.

Hours drift by. The sun starts to come up from behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest. The view is beyond beautiful. The sky is a pearly peach and fuchsia. I look down and notice that the Black Lake is completely still, like no one has, or ever will, disturb it. The morning, so peaceful, so calm, takes my breath away.

I stay sitting like that for several hours more. I watch the animals drink from the lake. I watch the Giant Squid come up for a peek of the world above water. I think of nature and dreams and James. I think and think and think.

Hours later, I still don't have any clue about anything.

I belatedly realise that it is Saturday. I don't have any classes and I can already tell that it is going to be a long day.

It is nine o'clock and I am bored out of my skull. I am unable to keep from thinking. I am steadily getting sick of this.

I hear my door click as it opens. My back stiffens. I don't want to hear that voice. I don't want to see that face. I can't.

His golden hazel eyes glide over my empty, cover-less bed. "Lily?" He opens the door wider and steps inside.

I realise that he had come to check on me. The feeling that spreads through me frightens me.

I almost don't answer him.

"Yes?" My will power always has been sickeningly weak.

He looks over at the window and I smile at him.

Why do I smile like that?

"What are you doing awake?" He neglects to ask why it is that I am outside of my window, balancing precariously thousands of feet from the ground. "It's only nine." It's funny how he already knows how I always sleep so late.

"I couldn't sleep. I was thinking too much." Why do I have this pathological need to tell him the truth?

"Oh." His eyes rake across my face. They stop for a moment, staring intently just under my eyes. I know he is looking at the dark smudging circles that lay beneath them. "Do you want to talk?" He takes a step closer, a hopeful glimmer in his eye.

I don't know why, but I come inside. I drop my blankets, not caring that they aren't put neatly back on my bed. It's warmer inside now. A house elf must have lit a fire downstairs. This is my way of saying yes.

"Care to go to the kitchens?"

A surprised, but friendly smile makes an appearance on my face. I nod and step forward.

"Erm, Lily?" He looks a bit uncomfortable.

"What?"

"You might want to… er… change." He looks down at me again, like yesterday and a charming blush rises on his cheeks.

I smile with both embarrassment and gratitude as a flush creeps up my own visage. "Er… right."

I change as he waits for me outside my room. A strange sort of excitement bubbles in my chest. I can't wait to see him, to talk with him, and I don't know why.

I push my hair back behind my ear and open my door. I immediately break into smile. I don't mean to, but I do. James smiles back.

We meander to the kitchens in relative silence. I'm glad to be near him, walking with him. My skin hums. Despite the pleasant feeling of being with him, I don't like it. I don't like that being near him means that I'm happy. It can only end badly.

He stops suddenly and reaches toward a portrait. He tickles a pear and we are able to get into the kitchen. I laugh at the absurdity of it all.

James winks at one of the house elves and leads me to a table.

"I'm sure they have some treacle tart." I don't think he is trying to sound appealing, but he does anyway.

"How do you know I like treacle tart?"

"Because, Lily, I'm more observant than you think." I wait for the fear or the awkwardness that is supposed to follow that statement, but I feel none.

Instead, I smile.

I don't know why I'm doing this. Spending time with him will not make figuring out these dreams any easier.

An attentive elf brings us both treacle tart and I thank him vehemently. I didn't realise just how much I needed that one sweet constant until I had it.

"So, Lily." He begins. "Are you going to tell me why you haven't slept in three days?"

I look into his eyes and without meaning to, I blurt out the truth. Or half of it anyway. It doesn't occur to me to find it unsettling that he knows how long I've gone without sleep. "I've been having odd dreams."

"Odd? Are you okay? Are they nightmares?" His concern makes that pleasant feeling swell.

"No. Not nightmares. Just… different." He knits his eyebrows together in confusion. I can't say it doesn't look good on him. "It's not important."

"It's obviously important to you, Lily, if you're losing sleep over it."

We sit in silence for a moment. James is almost done with his tart, but I just stare at it, thinking. Again.

"What does it mean, James, when someone is having dreams, about things they would never wish for when they were awake?" My intensity startles him, but he recovers quickly.

"It's probably your damn subconscious trying to tell you something." He pauses. "I wonder if those bloody things could ever send a message to you straight off."

Despite his humour, my heart, my breath, stops cold. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something? Is it trying to tell me that I could possibly like James Potter?

That thought is a bit too much to handle.


	4. Fourth Times Make for Unexplained Urges

_Author's Note: I know I said that there would be another chapter after this, but there isn't going to be. This story has, unfortunately (or fortunately, depending how you look at it), run its' course. I apologise, though, to anyone who was looking forward to it. So, enjoy this chapter and review if you feel like it, though it would be greatly appreciated. I like hearing what you think :D_

* * *

_"Come on!" His hand squeezes mine under the table. "Have a bit of fun, Lily!"_

_I think they call this peer pressure._

_"No, James…" I begin. "We can't. We have class and there's no doubt we'll get loads of homework."_

_"__Lily! It is the _perfect_ day! Look at the damn ceiling. Not a cloud there! And it's so bloody warm!"_

_"__I— James… No." I shake my head._

_"__It's only Charms, then we have a free period. Besides, you're brilliant at Charms!" He is whispering in my ear and the words, despite their meaning and child-like quality, are sensual. _

_"__But you're behind in Charms." I am grasping at any argument I can._

_"__But you__, my wonderful, charming, beautiful, brilliant, girlfriend are not! You'd be able to catch me up in half a mo. Come on, Lil. Go with me."_

_"__Ja— okay." I acquiesce. Even though I am not looking at him, I can see the smug smile that graces his features. The fact that I can picture him so clearly without looking at him makes me smile._

_I slump against him and he kisses my cheek, his soft lips causing me to shiver with pure happiness. He pulls me up and leads me out of the Great Hall by my hand. I think I hear Sirius whistle and make some sexual comment, but as usual, James and I ignore it. _

_Warm air hits me in a welcomed rush as we step outside. James grabs me by my waist and picks me up, twirling for a few steps. My stomach jumps, both at the feel of his hands on me and being suspended in the air. He puts me down and begins to run towards the Black Lake. I take this as a challenge. I race after him, laughing madly all the way. When I reach him, he gathers me in a huge bear hug._

_"__I love you, you know." He whispers fiercely. _

_I nod. "I love you too."_

_Suddenly, he releases me and strips himself of his shirt. He pulls the sweater of my robes up over my head and pulls down my skirt. He picks me up once again and holds me tight. I can feel the planes of the muscle of his chest through my thin white shirt. Excitement rushes through me. I know what he is about to do. Even so, I gasp as he runs toward the water, jumping high in the air. He kisses me deeply as we hit the it, never letting me go. As the icy chill of the lake seeps through my skin I think that there is no place I would rather be right now._

I don't wake up afraid. My heart is still beating fast, most likely the result of the surplus of adrenaline that is pumping through my veins, but I'm not afraid. I'm not gasping for breath like I just woke up from a nightmare. I'm okay.

I smile in the darkness. The dreams are becoming less unsettling and more… pleasant.

I look outside. It's pitch black, but I can see the stars. They glimmer, egging me on. It's about three in the morning. I'm exhausted, but I feel rested at the same time. I almost feel at peace.

I sigh gustily, still undecided. About what, I do not know. I slip out of bed and pad into the hallway, the gelidity of the floor sending chills up my body.

There it is. The door. _His_ door.

It seems to loom before me, but at the same time, it seems to lean back, inviting me in, waiting for me to make that final decision to step inside.

I inhale deeply.

Do I want to do this?

Yes. I do. I need to. I need reassurance that I haven't gone insane.

I touch my fingertips to the icy gold. Instead of pulling away, I grasp it tightly, turn and push.

The door does not creak as it opens. It is silent. All I can hear is James' deep and even breathing, on the far side of the room.

I walk forward slowly, the sound of my steps muffled by my bare feet. I stand over him, his chest rising and falling with each new breath. His long eyelashes rest upon the tops of his cheeks.

He looks peaceful. I don't want to interrupt that. So I just stand there and watch him for a moment. I almost brush my fingers across his cheek in one soft caress, but I stop myself.

I don't want to do this.

I can't do this.

I can't.

"Lily?" He grabs his glasses off the nightstand and jams them onto the bridge of his nose. "Lily? What are you doing in here?"

I am stunned. How did he wake up?

"Lily? Are you all right? Has something happened?" His voice is full of concern.

The ice inside me melts.

But it doesn't.

It can't.

I won't let it.

"Lily?"

"I'm sorry." I whisper. I'm shaking. Shivering. Shuddering.

What am I doing?

"What, Lily? What's wrong?"

The tears are cold. They seem to freeze on my cheek. But they're not stopping.

James sits up, face full of alarm.

He's not wearing a shirt. He must be cold. I'm cold.

"Lily. Tell me what's wrong."

So I tell him.

"I _want_ to bound into the Black Lake. I _want_ to get on a broom and fly into space. I _want_ to run screaming through a field. I _want_ to." I stress, finally admitting everything, though mostly to myself. My tears ebb.

"Lily, what are you on about?"

"I… I don't know." But I do know. I know everything now.

But he isn't reacting like I had hoped he would, like I had thought he would.

"Lily, It's okay. Just calm down and tell me what's wrong."

I shiver. He's too kind to me.

"It's cold, Lily. Come here." He opens his blankets to me. They are inviting, enticing. I slip between the sheets, careful not to touch him, even though I want to. He rubs my arms with his hands, attempting to warm them with friction. It's not exactly working.

He lies back and I can tell he is still tired.

"Oh. I— I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine, Lily. I don't mind."

"I'll just…" This is far too awkward.

"No. It's okay. Stay. Tell me what's going on." He pulls me down towards the bed and I let my head fall upon the pillow beside him. Our legs and arms are touching. I think I am going to die. "Tell me, Lily." My name rolls off his tongue with such ease. I want to listen to him talk forever. But he wants _me_ to talk.

"I haven't gotten more than two hours of sleep in four days, James. Each night I have been waken by these dreams… these absolutely terrifying dreams…" I'm staring up at the ceiling. I'm too much of a coward to look him in the eye. I'm finding it increasingly hard to breathe. Those tears begin to leak out of my eyes once more. "All I have been doing is thinking. Thinking at night. In the morning. At meals. In class. Thinking. All the time. Thinking about those bloody dreams. I don't – I _didn't_ know what they meant. I think… I think do now."

"Lily, I hope you realise that I haven't got the faintest clue what you're on about."

"I love you." I mumble. Eloquence and subtlety, that's me.

"I'm sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

"I love you." I say with slightly more conviction, though still feebly.

He is silent. I don't dare to turn and look at him.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything." I mutter, starting to get up. I'm fighting back tears with everything I have, yet I somehow still manage to keep my voice even. "Er… sorry, James, for disturbing you and… everything." Flashes of my dreams rise, unbidden, into my mind. I am surprised at how much I want them to be true and how disappointed I feel that they never will be. I almost loose control over my tear ducts. Almost.

I had thought, so surely, that this would end as I wanted.

Obviously, I was wrong.

"Lily?" His voice is cautious.

"Yes, James?" Again, my voice is even, but any hope has been stripped away.

"What did you say a moment ago?"

"I, erm… apologised."

"I meant before that."

"Oh. Um, I said that I…" I pause, closing my eyes. I shouldn't say it again. I _should not_ say it again. I say it again. "I said I loved you."

"I thought that's what you said, though you can never be too sure."

A tear escapes my hold and trails down my cheek across the dried paths of tears before it. I sit up and I am instantly surrounded by icy air. It's painfully cold, but I deserve it. My stupidity deserves to be punished.

Suddenly, James sits up and his large hand is secured at the nape of my neck in an unbreakable hold. He leans in and presses his mouth to mine. His lips are warm and soft. They feel like silk beneath my own lips. He kisses with such expertise and such sweet fervor that there is nothing I can do but reciprocate.

When he pulls away, it feels much too soon.

He kisses my forehead and whispers, "I have waited for you to wake me in the middle of the bloody night for far too long." He places a chaste kiss on my lips before saying, "I love you too."

I feel like I am going to laugh and cry and scream all at once. I feel just like I am supposed to feel. Just like I felt in my dreams.

I allow a few tears to slip out from beneath my eyelids and I hug him tightly. He hugs me back just as fiercely.

An unspoken agreement passes through us then and I realise that we are now 'together'. Honestly, I don't think anything could make me happier.

"Lay down, Lily. You need to sleep." He murmurs, his voice is thick with elation and drowsiness.

So I lay down, me head nestled next to his shoulder, his arm snaked across my waist.

"I love you." He whispers into my ear.

I sigh and reply, "I love you too."

I sink into a deep sleep, not disturbed by any dreams, for my dreams are alive and well, sleeping soundly beside me.


End file.
